


Go Away (Come a Little Closer)

by Xayna



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 04:11:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3595875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xayna/pseuds/Xayna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean never feels he’s good enough. He knows that he’s fucked things up enough times that nothing he does will ever redeem him. He tortured people in hell, for fuck’s sake.</p>
<p>Nobody sees Dean that way, though, and especially not Castiel.<br/>***<br/>This is an unfinished fic that I'm moving over from Tumblr. I don't know if I'll finish it, but if someone wants an ending, I can probably make that happen. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go Away (Come a Little Closer)

Dean slammed the door of the impala. “Why the fuck would you do that, Sam?” he demanded, his voice rough.

"I thought that maybe -"

"Well you thought wrong." Dean stalked toward their motel room, furious that Sam had to stay in the same room.

"But Cas didn’t seem to mind!" Sam insisted, following his older brother and carrying two large sacks of carry out.

"Of course he didn’t mind!" Dean roared, turning on Sam. "He didn’t know what the fuck you were talking about." Dean threw up his hands in exasperation. "He thought that when you said ‘partner,’ you meant someone to work on a case with. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Cas doesn’t care a whole lot about the sex thing. As far as I know, angels don’t have a sex drive. And even if he did, I’m pretty sure angels aren’t allowed to be, you know, gay.”

Sam’s face turned crimson. “From the way he’s been looking at you…”

"What, Sammy? You think he’s interested in me? Cas is an angel. He wouldn’t go for the likes of me even if he could.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “So that’s what this is about. You don’t think Cas likes you. Well let me tell you something. He’s batshit crazy about you. Every time I see him, you know what the first thing he does is? He asks about you. When he shows up and you’re not around, he looks like someone killed his puppy. Not kicked it. Killed it, Dean. I’m tired of your guilt and self-hatred getting in the way of fucking everything.”

Dean turned his back and stormed to their door, which he unlocked with a speed born of pure muscle memory. He slammed the door behind him and stalked into the bathroom, leaving his brother outside.

"Real mature, Dean!" Sam yelled from outside their room, fumbling with the door and the bags.

Dean shut and locked the bathroom door and turned on the shower. They had a long day and he needed to wash off the sweat and the grime. Maybe, if he took long enough, Sam would get off his freakin’ ass and drop the subject.

When Dean came out of the bathroom, hair stuck down to his head and a towel wrapped around his waist, Sam was gone. There was a note sticking out from under the untouched sack of food. Dean swiped it up and read:

Took the car out. Going to hustle pool. Don’t wait up.

Dean crumpled the paper and threw it against the wall. Fuck this. And fuck Sam for getting on his case. He quickly threw on a pair of boxers and pajama bottoms and climbed into bed without touching his food. Sleep would fix this.

***

"Dean. Dean, wake up." Dean shot up and reached under his pillow for his gun. "Calm down, it’s just me." Dean looked up in surprise to see Cas standing next to his bed.

"Cas, what are you doing here?" He looked around for Sam, but he didn’t seem to have come back yet. Then, he looked at the clock. "What the fuck, man? It’s three in the morning."

"I know what time it is," Cas said dryly. "I wanted to see you."

"Couldn’t it wait until morning?" Dean pointedly ignored the fluttering in his stomach.

Cas looked confused and bothered. “Well, yes, I suppose. I really wanted to see you.”

Dean shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “Alright, man. What’s up?”

Cas frowned and furrowed his brow. “Is that another colloquialism?”

Dean sighed. It was not the time to be having this conversation. “Fuck. Alright, Cas. Let me get some coffee.”

Cas pointed to the small table in their kitchenette. “I brought coffee and warm pie. I thought you may need something to wake you up.”

Dean’s face broke into a huge, bleary smile and he stumbled over to the table and gratefully took a long drag of the dark, bitter drink. He grunted appreciatively and unwrapped the pie before taking the plastic fork Cas had so thoughtfully included and digging in.

When the first bite of the cherry pie hit his tongue, Dean let out a sinful moan. “Cas, man, I could kiss you right now.” Dean froze and stared in horror at Cas’s guileless face.

"If that’s all it would take," Cas began matter-of-factly, "I would have brought you coffee and pie much sooner." Dean choked on his pie and took a drink of coffee to wash it down.

"What?" Dean was in shock. He couldn’t process the fear, hope, denial, and longing that filled him.

"I said," Cas started, but Dean interrupted him.

"I know what you said. What did you mean?"

Cas’s face twisted into an expression of pure confusion.

"I meant exactly what I said."

Dean slowly put down his fork and leveled his eyes at the rumpled angel standing in front of him. Cas was all decked out in his normal clothes: pants that looked like they’d never been ironed, a shirt in the same state of disarray, a tie on backwards, and an immaculately cared for tan trench coat.

"So you’re saying," Dean began, slowly standing up and holding his hands in front of his body as if to emphasize his words. "So you’re saying that you," he pointed at Cas. "You, an angel of the Lord who was able to actually reach down into hell and pull me out. You want to kiss me.” Dean took his hand and jerked his thumb toward his chest. “The same me who dropped out of high school, kills shit for a living, cheats at everything ever, and -“

Cas held up his hand to stop Dean from continuing. “Dean.” Cas’ voice was low, lower than normal, and soothing, as though comforting a small child or keeping an animal from getting spooked. “I am aware of your shortcomings and they are not as bad as you make them out to be. The amount of good you do far outweighs the bad.”

Dean moved to speak, but Cas cut him off. “No, I don’t want to hear it.” Cas moved forward slowly. “I like you, Dean. I might even lo-“

"No. Don’t fucking say that." Dean growled in the back of his throat. "Nobody is allowed to say that. Or do that."

"But Sam lo-"

Dean slammed his hand down on the table. “I said no! Fuck, Cas. I - you - I - you can’t…”

Cas moved forward and laid his hand gently on Dean’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I won’t say it.”

Dean turned his head from Cas’s too-close face. Dean could smell Cas, but he didn’t know how to describe it. He smelled clean, but not like soap because angels didn’t bathe. He had a dense, masculine scent that Dean could drown in.

"Hey," Cas said, placing his free hand on the side of Dean’s face and turning it toward himself. "I never heard any objections to me kissing you, only to you as a person, which I have disregarded and find completely ridiculous."

Dean’s breath hitched in his throat. He could feel Cas’s breath on his lips. His eyes traveled from Cas’s eyes to his lips and back up. Dean’s tongue sneaked out to wet his own too-dry lips.

"Dean, may I kiss you?"

Those words turned Dean’s blood into burning ice. He may have nodded or breathed out an airy “Yes,” but that was lost because Cas’s lips were on his. 

The first touch was tender and brief, no more than a brush of skin. Dean growled deep in his throat and leaned in for another kiss. This kiss was longer and deeper, but no less tender. Dean slid his hands onto Cas’s waist and pulled him close as the kisses continued.

Neither one of them was aware of time. One kiss became two, became three, became one long, never ending touch of the lips. Dean decided, somewhere in the small part of his mind that could still form rational thought, that he was going to take it slow with Cas. He was going to be gentle and not throw him into everything all at once. Savor it.

The sound of a key being slid into a lock made them freeze. Dean pulled back and looked at Cas with wide, panicked eyes. “You’ve gotta hide,” he whispered.

"I don’t see-" Cas began, but Dean pulled him toward the bathroom.

"Come on! Hurry!" Dean shoved Cas into the small room and then shut the door.

The door opened behind him and Sam stumbled into the room, giggling and clearly wasted. “Dean!” he all but yelled when he turned on the light. “You’re awake!”


End file.
